MILLICENT
She keeps running down - like a
tired dog, she slumbers. I watch
her with a mad intention of
magazine pages and notebook
sheafs. At a certain level, all
people look alike. Millicent tries
sitting erect; her thinly trod
pants, like leggings, grip her skin.
Her fingers try holding the newspaper
and the glass, together, as she talks.
She keeps running down - like a
tired dog, she slumbers. I watch
her with a mad intention of
magazine pages and notebook
sheafs. At a certain level, all
people look alike. Millicent tries
sitting erect; her thinly trod
pants, like leggings, grip her skin.
Her fingers try holding the newspaper
and the glass, together, as she talks.
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